


Not Your Boyfriend

by HeartofCanada (Tassledown), Tassledown



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, M/M, Non-binary character, Other, Trans Character, Violence, faked argument, minor dysphoria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:53:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/HeartofCanada, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tassledown/pseuds/Tassledown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norway wants an excuse to get out of the meeting. Denmark is always up to being party to that endeavour. It's never been a problem before, and he won't let it be a problem now, even if little worries try and get in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically an edited, expanded, and better-conveyed version of "The Language of Norway's Nation." If you've read that one before, this is what it should've been had I bothered to do decent development and editing at that time. Since they're significantly different now that I've done that (Since, actual sex scene now, to say the least) this gets it's own posting.
> 
> Names are: (I could go into why, but it's a very specific writerly-whining tract, so I won't.)  
> Børre = Norway  
> Tarben = Denmark  
> Berwald = Sweden

Listening to speeches was not Børre's strong-suit; to be frank, he detested it. Whatever had been the original point of the meeting, it was currently the United Kingdom's verbal jerking off. Børre had resorted to flipping through his Twitter.

To his left, Emil was on his tablet and kept tilting it to show to Hong Kong on his other side. After a few minutes Børre finally glimpsed what it was and rolled his eyes. They were looking at cat photos. He should've known. 

On his right, Tarben had leaned back his chair to stare at the ceiling. Børre considered getting his attention, but if he wasn't careful Tarben would fall backwards and disrupt the entire meeting, which would draw far too much attention. On his Twitter feed he saw something he could use instead. 

Børre planted his foot on the crossbar of Tarben's chair and snapped it back down to the ground. Tarben slammed forward and nearly kissed the table, hard enough England paused to glare in the middle of his speech.

“Sorry, you just really got my attention there Arthur!” Tarben laughed and waved. “Carry on.”

England ground his teeth but looked away and carried on. Tarben turned to Børre once he had gotten going again and raised his eyebrows. 

Børre dangled his phone in front of his eyes, the tweet in question up on screen. “What's this, Tarben?”

Tarben frowned at him. “Bragging?”

Børre turned his phone around to read off the tweet in an undertone, “'Banged my boyfriend on the table last night.' What boyfriend was this?”

Tarben paused, then blushed. “Okay, you're right, I shouldn't have said it like that.”

“Mm.”

“Wait, are you objecting to the bragging or the boyfriend part?”

Børre tucked his phone back into his lap and flipped to his photo gallery. Tarben leaned on his thigh and glanced down. His breath caught in his throat before he turned and breathed over his ear.

“If I apologize for calling you my boyfriend, can we go outside and admire those photos more?”

Børre pushed him off, turned and stood up, walking out of the meeting without another word. Tarben swore softly and followed him. England didn't pause in his speech, and Børre doubted anyone else noticed their exit – they were all too caught up in whatever they used to ignore him. 

Børre tucked his phone into his pocket and waited until he heard the door shut behind Tarben to twist and kick him in the stomach. Tarben grabbed his ankle and jerked it to the side, throwing Børre off balance and into the wall. Børre caught a side table and used it to leverage his foot free, then stood with it at his back. 

“Gee Børre, were you that offended?” Tarben laughed and closed in, his hands out to his sides. “C'mon, let me make it up to you.”

“Are you sure that's what I want?” Børre said flatly.

Tarben smiled smugly. “Well, I didn't have anyone else moaning my name on the table last night.”

He came another step closer, and Børre punched him in the solar plexus. Tarben folded over him and slammed his elbow down on Børre's shoulder. Børre threw Tarben onto his back on the floor. He dropped and straddled his waist, and brought his arm went back to deliver another punch.

Someone grabbed his wrist before he could. Børre turned with a snarl and went silent as soon as he finished looking up.

“Sverige,” he said. 

Berwald did not let go. “You should take this further from the meeting than the hallway.”

Børre tugged his arm free. “We were having a talk.”

“Is this a fight or sex?”

Børre got up off Tarben's waist and straightened his clothes, briskly brushing his hair back from his face. Tarben got up and ran his hands through his own hair, leaving it messier than it had gotten on the floor. 

Børre punched him in the face the moment he lowered his hands, then turned to walk away and Step into his hotel room. He looked at his hand and smiled. He had Tarben's blood on his knuckles; he must have broken his nose. 

As the minutes ticked by, however, and Tarben didn't show up, he started to worry. He thought he'd been clear, but they could be incredibly informal about when arguments were foreplay or for real. If Tarben had thought he was truly angry...

He'd worried enough to start the coffee machine in the room running before Tarben showed up and dropped onto the bed with a groan. 

“God!” he exclaimed.

Børre sat next to him and touched his shoulder. “What took you?” 

“Berwald needed to talk to me about you again.”

“Again?” He sighed. “Hasn't he gotten used to this by now?”

“Hey, sometimes I can't tell you're flirting until I get a good feel of your cock through your pants.” Tarben sat up and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “It just doesn't bother me that much.”

Børre twisted in his lap and grabbed his tie to pull his face down to his level. He licked the blood off Tarben's lips, then pressed a kiss to his mouth. Tarben wrapped his arms around his back and kissed back. He bit down on Børre's lip and drew blood before he pulled away.

Tarben groaned. “I'm glad you're pulling down this time. I can still breathe.”

“Really?” Børre said softly. “Are you certain?”

Tarben blinked at him. “Yeah, why?”

“You switched to Danish,” Børre answered, pronouncing the language carefully himself to draw Tarben's attention to it. He slid the knot of the tie higher on his throat and gently pulled it tighter. “I can fix that, if you'd like.” He stopped nervously. “Unless you think Berwald might come looking for you.”

“He won't, don't worry about it.” Tarben leaned down to kiss Børre's earlobe. “I really can use a different word if you want next time. I know you don't like boyfriend but...”

“I know,” Børre sighed and leaned into Tarben's touch. “It's fine. Another word will just make them ask.” 

He considered asking Tarben to come back with him to his own home, where someone knocking on the door or coming in while he was undressed was less likely, but they weren't at the meetings for no reason. Just because they turned into echo chambers for the rich and self-righteous didn't mean that no work got done at all.

Tarben opened Børre's pants and slid his hands into his underwear to cup his groin. Børre pushed him back on the bed and straddled his lap, wrapping the end of Tarben's tie around his hand until he could jerk it to the side and close off his throat. Tarben's hand jerked in his pants. His eyes slid shut, but he leaned into the pressure to kiss Børre again. 

Børre wrapped the tie around his hand a second time and pulled it tighter. He bent to bite into Tarben's throat, holding on with his teeth as he undid Tarben's tie and shirt to undress him. Tarben swore softly and grabbed his hair to pull his head back. Børre let go. 

“Let me get my shirt off before you bleed me,” Tarben teased. He threw his shirt off the bed, then reached up to stroke Børre's throat. Tarben drew him into another kiss as his fingers opened Børre's. Børre slid up against his naked chest and let his shirt fall.

As soon as his hands were free, Børre pushed Tarben roughly down to the bed and dug his nails into his shoulders. Tarben swore, scared and nervous as Børre's finger traced his open lips. 

“So what to you plan to do to me?” Tarben asked.

Børre pressed his finger down with a stern look. “I don't want you to talk.” 

He picked up Tarben's hand and moved it to the button on his pants. Tarben opened them and pushed them off his legs as Børre climbed his body and sat in the curve of his arm.

“Undress yourself,” Børre said. 

Tarben opened his mouth like he might speak and Børre raised an eyebrow back at him. Tarben rolled his eyes and slowed down, exagerrating the motions as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock free.

“Is this what you want?” Tarben asked. 

“Yes,” Børre said. 

Tarben smirked and put it back in his pants. “Fight me for it.”

Børre raised his eyebrows. “Are you paying for the cleaning bill?”

Tarben pouted and then shrugged. He opened his pants once more and pushed them off his legs. He bent over to take off his socks as well, which normally he did not do. Børre watched him, suspicious. Tarben straightened up, turned and lunged at him. Børre slammed back onto the bed and swore, only to have Tarben steal his mouth with a kiss. 

He could have fought him. He might have, but it was a hotel, and not their laundry, and really, as Tarben kissed down his throat and pushed his legs apart, he was happy with the fight they'd had tonight. 

“Lube?” Tarben mumbled against his skin.

“To your left,” Børre said.

“Condom?”

“It's just you.”

“And not for clean up?” Tarben teased.

“They expect semen on the sheets, elskede.” 

Tarben grunted and nuzzled into his throat harder before breaking away to retrieve the lube. Børre watched him, watched his face and wrapped his legs around his waist. 

“You're a little eager for me, huh?” Tarben smirked and pushed his body back down before thrusting his fingers inside him.

Børre laughed and dug his fingers into his hair. “I already tasted your blood today. I want to taste the rest of you, too.”

Tarben kissed along his chin and fucked him with his fingers. He replaced them with his cock before long, clutching at his chest as ground him into the bed. Tarben, on top of him, kissing him and fucking him, was all he wanted. Børre wrapped his body around him, whispering love and threats in his ear until Tarben had fucked the breath out of him. Tarben pinned his head to the sheets by his hair and cursed God and the world as his climax washed over him and left them both panting on top of the sheets.

Tarben rolled off of him and wiped the sweat from his face. “You're amazing.”

“Mm,” Børre snorted. He wound one leg around Tarben's again, not wanting to give up the touch of his skin. “Thank you.”

He turned a bright smile Børre's way. “You are,” he repeated. “Amazing and beautiful and bewildering all at once.” 

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes.” Tarben stroked his hair out of his face and grinned. “I love when you get angry at me. You have the best sex.”

Børre frowned. “You know I'm not usually angry?”

Tarben swore softly and tuned onto his side to cup his face. “Yeah, sure I do! I've seen you really angry, remember? I'm never gonna forget that.” 

He dropped one hand to the scar burned into his ribs, and Børre pressed his hand overtop of it. He leaned up and kissed Tarben on the mouth, lingering until the tension had faded from his shoulders. 

“I'm glad,” he said. “You learned better.”

Tarben dragged Børre up against his chest. “Yeah, I did and now I get to fight with you and fuck you all the time.”

“You do,” Børre agreed. He nipped Tarben's lip again and pushed him onto his back so he could cuddle against the side of his chest, content and satisfied.

**Author's Note:**

> "Elskede", so I found at least, means "beloved" in Norwegian.
> 
> No, I don't have a particular time period in mind for when Tarben got the burn scar. They had plenty of opportunities historically.


End file.
